The Tales of Daaven Vincie
by Silventongue
Summary: He was in a cell. Again. Wasn't he supposed to be a big shot hero? Didn't he, like, save the world? Shouldn't he get special treatment? So he had killed a few people indiscriminately , but he made up for it by saving others on a daily basis! Now he's being set free, and it looks like Skyrim needs his help once more.
1. The Release

After some wonderful encouragement from my fabulous reviewers, I am trying to rewrite my chapters with more detail, per your request. Enjoy, and I hope to hear more from you all.

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**The Release:**

Water dripped onto an ever-growing puddle in the corner of the stone room, the persistent little splats a monotonous tune in the oppresive silence of the Riften Cells. A chilly breeze was consitently rattling it's way through the rusty barred window, bringing with it the dank, musty smell of the river.

Daaven sat up sighing; he was in a prison bed. Again. Wasn't he supposed to be a big shot hero? Didn't he, like, save the world? Shouldn't he get special treatment? So he killed people without a single thought for their suffering, but he made up for it by saving others on a daily basis! He stared at the bars of his cell in anticipation. Today was the day. He was going to be released into the world. Again.

"Well 'Dragonborn' today's your lucky day." The Warden, a stocky, leather faced man sneered, unlocking the cell door.

"Why thank you kind sir!" Daaven said with a large, smug grin, "Might I say that I'll miss the talks we had. I've found your words quite entertaining! In fact my personal favourite was," He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, screwed up his face and lowered his melodious voice into a growl, _"'One of these days the world will see you for what you are and you'll be put in here for life, and I'll have the pleasure of watching you rot.'_ Quite endearing, I must say."

The Warden glared at him, weeks of resentment in his eyes as Daaven strutted out of the cell. "Cheerio!" the Dragonborn waved pleasantly as he walked out the dungeon. Feeling particularly charming today, Daaven decided to go meet up with his favourite drinking partner…Sanguine. A few hours later found him paying the carriage driver outside the Riften Stables to take him to Windhelm.

God he hated that place, ruled by the most selfish prick in all of Skyrim. Ulfric Stormcloak, AKA; Complete Wanker. It took 12 hours to get to the Windhelm's inn at which point he was ready to get sloshed, Winghelm's ungodly climate assaulting his fair skin with freezing, irrational winds and snow. He just hoped Sanguine had his special brew.

Candlehearth Hall inn, known for the eternally burning candle in memory of the great warrior who had originally owned the building, was much like any other building in Windhelm. Outside, the stone looked rough, unforgiving and almost cobbled together, the unforgiving winds shaping Windhelm's buildings to their whim. But inside the unnapealing stone shell lay a decadent center of soft carpets and drapes, warm fires and the smell of various pleasure-inducing substances.

Walking in, Daaven immediately noticed the daedric prince in his Sam disguise. In an odd way, Sam Guevenne was easy to pick out in a room, simply for his sheer lack of distinguishing features. To summarise his appearance, Sam was, at his best, 'non-descript'. Sanguine seemed to sense his presence and waved at him from his seat at the bar. Trademark grin in place, Daaven hurried over, sitting next to him.

"Sho da striumphant weturns." Sanguine slurred.

"Oh my! You started drinking without me. Sammy, you cruel, backstabbing harlot!" Daaven whined, a pout in place.

"Nah worriez... I gotzs ya shome o' the hard shtuff." Sanguine pulled a suspicious bottle from seemingly out of nowhere.

Daaven gladly took the bottle, immediately opening it. "To freedom!" he cheered.

"Shtu reedum!" The daedric prince tried to mimic. They proceeded to chug down their drinks. By the 3rd, Daaven was swaying dangerously on his stool.

"Shoe know wha'?" Sanguine mumbled blinking rapidly, "I shinks shoe shudda end ta' war 'cause them shtormcloaks are bein' anoyin'.."

"Mmn…nm...mm," was Daaven's coherent reply. Sanguine stared at the high elf trying to drink from his empty bottle, his lips twitching.

"All right that's it, I think you have had enough. I don't want you riding your buzz into the Void in my establishment." The innkeeper said with her hands on her hips.

"Shoe sho pwetty…wwhhyy..don ya…come herre an gimme a…a…a kish?" Daaven's atrocious language saddened two scholarly looking men in the corner, who were shaking their heads dourly.

Sanguine smirked, "Shoe should lishten to the lady…hmm?"

"Oookayy…" Daaven murmured sadly, a look of longing finding its way onto his face as the lady took the empty bottle from him.

Slumping despondently, he felt like his child had been taken from him.

Daaven burst into tears.

"Dere dere, I gotsh ya." Sanguine said comfortingly. Not a moment later, he heard snoring from the head on his shoulder." Smiling slightly, the deadra carried his drinking partner and their things to his room. They didn't mind sharing a bed, as Daaven was like his brother, barring the godly power…and the demonic looks. The moment they hit the pillows Sanguine fell into a much-needed sleep.


	2. Sanguine's Friendship

**Sanguine's Friendship:**

Sanguine took it back. He rather _did_ mind sharing a bed with Daaven.

That morning Sanguine had woken up on the floor, only to notice Daaven had taken up the whole bed. This leant new meaning to the term 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed'. Waking up having been ejected from it completely was a fairly unpleasant way for a Daedric Prince to begin his day. After he had woken up, bathed, dressed and eaten he had, to put it generously, 'woken up' Daaven.

Big mistake.

He had sore muscles from sleeping on the floor, made even more stiff from an icy bath and then had to deal with a half awake Daaven.

He whined about being woken up, and then whined about not being woken up sooner. He resisted idea of a bath ("I've gone without soap for weeks, a few more days won't hurt!"). A man didn't have to bath often, but a drunk did NOT smell good. He was so against bathing that it got to the point were Sanguine had to drag him to the tub kicking and screaming (literally, the innkeeper knocked indignantly on the door to ask about all the fuss) and toss him in clothed and everything. Only then did Daaven finally comply.

Sanguine knew Daaven was an adult and should be able to make his own decisions but when it came at the cost of the comfort of the people around him, then he needed to make a stand. His bad mood might have had something to do with the harsh treatment, but Sanguine would take no questions on the matter. And then he had to threaten to force feed Daaven when the dragonborn refused to eat his breakfast, claiming it was disgusting and that he wanted "real food". Sanguine knew what that meant, and even though Daaven stubbornly insisted that his habit of aimlessly wandering over Skyrim kept off the pounds, a diet consisting only of sweet rolls and Ale was not to be allowed. The man needed to eat his vegetables and meat or he would become weak and, in extension, useless.

Sanguine often wandered why he bothered. But the fact was that every couple of millenia, a mortal came around that seemed to inexplicably be in the centre of everything. You could tell them apart from the others by the occasionally vacant look in their eyes when they stood in one place for too long, or their odd habits, like picking locks on buildings they never entered or spending entire days doing nothing but jumping. Because though the dragonborn was hard to deal with at times, he was always at the centre of whatever chaos ensued in Skyrim. And Sanguine loved chaos, it was hilarious.

To watch the mortals deal with it of course... He was _not_ like Sithis or Sheogorath.

Later on, in the evening, Daaven and Sanguine sat downstairs in a chairs by the fireplace, listening to the bard being heckled for a high pitched rendition of 'The Dragonborn Comes'.

"You think that candle really has never gone out in years?" Daaven mused, staring at it curiously.

"Why do ya ask?" Sanguine questioned casually.

"'Cause if it really is an eternal flame, wouldn't it be cool to blow it out?" Daaven bounced excitedly in his chair.

"Nah, that's a normal candle." Sanguine said, "Tis' kept alight by magic, and the candle is changed every night at midnight."

"Damn." The dragonborn mumbled. "Lets go do something fun, yeah?"

"What do ya have in mind?" the daedric prince asked dully, his expectations low and his mood still sullied from that morning.

"Let's break all the prisoners out the dungeon and watch the wardens try and recapture them." The dragonborn hissed, sniggering.

"Hmm, sounds fun." Sanguine agreed. " I'll wait here and watch."

"Pshh, you're no fun." Daarven grumbled huffily.

"Oh but I am!" Sanguine sang, " If I helped you, it would take away all the fun you could have!"

"Sure…whatever."

* * *

Daaven stood in front of the Palace of Kings, invisible. Illusion was his favourite school of magic. Daaven liked to avoid killing when possible, not because he didn't like killing people but because he was incredibly lazy.

Walking up the stairs he entered the building, sneaking quietly through the hall while keeping to the wall.

"What do you think, blue and white or red and gold?" he heard a woman say in an soft sweet voice.

"Blue of course, red is too Imperial." a man replied. Daaven didn't bother to look at who was talking as he went through a side door. The dragonborn walked down the corridor and into a room with three cells and six prisoners. He wondered if there were enough of them for his plan to work.

He crouched down in front of the first door and picked the lock then the next, listening carefully for approaching footsteps as he picked the last lock. He opened the three cell doors, the six prisoners looked this way and that.

"What in the name of Azura?" one prisoner mumbled.

"Freedom!" another cried as he ran out of his cell. It took a moment for the others to realise what was going on, after which they followed him in a desperate hurry to escape. Daaven watched silently as they snuck down the corridor. He braced himself as they aproached the main hall. The dragonborn frowned as they burst through the door, stopping some lords, ladies and, not suprisingly, Yarl Ulfric himself mid conversation.

Yarl Ulfric stood up immediately, being the first to see them. He seemed completely baffled. Nevertheless, Ulfric suprised Daaven by unsheathing his sword and running at the first prisoner. The prisoner tried to punch at him but Ulfric cut the man down with ease. A female prisoner screamed in horror at the death of her companian.

Getting over his shock, Daaven walked over to the "throne" at the head of the main hall. He sat down crossing his legs. Daaven watched as the guards and Ulfric cut them down one by one. Though they were weaponless the prisoners were quite skilled and some even lasted an hour. After watching them slaughter the prisoners he stood up from his spot on the Windhelm "throne" and walked leisurely out the palace, smiling up at the starry night sky. No wonder the Imperials had arenas to watch fights to the death.

As fun as it was mucking about alongside Sanguine, tomorrow he would return to Whiterun.

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A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	3. Ashthoniet and Travelling

**Ashthoniet and Travelling:**

The dragonborn reached in between a clump of rocks, clasping onto the bag. Once in hand he pulled out twenty Septims. After returning the bag and its remaining contents to its hiding spot, Daaven ran up the slope on the riverside. Just up there were the stables, so he made his way to the carriage driver.

"Whiterun." He said, handing the man 15 septims and climbing onto the back of the wagon.

"Sure thing." The Driver said starting the horses on their long trek. Daaven watched as the snow disappeared behind him, the lush lands of Whiterun Hold slowly coming closer. He watched with a smile on his face as deer scattered to make way for the travellers, a bunny hoped by the side of the road, fleeing an unseen predator.

The driver talked on about the companions and Dragonsreach but Daaven paid no attention as he observed his surroundings in comfort. He loved carriage rides. They were always so serene. Smiling he noticed a- Daaven did a double take. Was that his horse? He squinted at a large wandering paint horse with an oddly familiar red saddle…

"Stop!" he shouted, jumping off of the wagon as it slowed, running towards the grazing horse, "Ashthoniet!" Daaven cried. The horse looked up at him, still chewing on a clump of grass.

Daaven couldn't believe he had found her after all this time.

A few months earlier, Daaven had been contracted to kill a hermit who had mugged a travelling bard. Daaven had a very bad sense of direction so he left his horse Ashthoniet on the side of the road in order to locate her easily after fulfilling the contract. But after killing the hermit he had found himself lost in the woods. Having wondered aimlessly, when he did find the road it was far from Ashthoniet, but he had mistakenly assumed the horse had run off.

Apparently Ashthoniet had stayed there ever since.

And she was _livid_.

Ashthoniet was furious that her Master had neglected her for six months. When Daaven tried to touch her she nipped at him visciously. The poor high elf reared back in surprise, shocked his beloved horse would bite at him. Even though horses probably couldn't glare, Ashthoniet seemed to be giving it a good go. Huffily, she turned her back on him. The dragonborn frowned, not understanding why she was being so cruel to him.

"Ashthoniet!" He whined, pouting at his horse's actions, "Why are you ignoring me?"

Silence was his only answer, so sighing he grumbled, "Fine be like that, but come on or you'll be left behind." The annoyed horse followed him silently, as Daaven got back onto the wagon it started moving again with Ashthoniet walking behind them. She did not so much as give a winny.

* * *

Daaven sat at the bar of the Bannered Mare brooding over the parameters of his relationship with his horse. He remembered when they had been really close. It had taken a long time to gain her trust. She had been very suspicious of him when he had first bought (ehem...stolen) her, but after months of looking after her, they had grown close. Now he had literally lost her one to many times. He sighed resignedly, looking at the fire on the floor pit in front of him.

"You okay there?" He looked up at the redguard serving-girl looking down at him.

"Tch, pet problems." He mumbled looking back at the fire.

"Poor thing." She murmured crouching down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Another drink?"

He rolled his eyes at her "subtle" advertisement.

"Nah, I need a someone to whine at." He said smiling grimly, "…a friend not a psychiatrist, I ain't payin' nobody for comfort." She blinked a couple of times before nodding and standing. Though her face didn't show it, he could see the disappointment in her eyes. He didn't really care, he had his own problems to deal with.

"Vincie?" He looked up once again at the sound of a familiar voice. He blinked at the nord woman standing over him.

"What is it, the attack of the highly flirtatious woman?"

She rolled her eyes at him, settling down on the floor next to him.

"Very funny Vincie." She said. He was pretty sure he detected sarcasm...

"Funny? That would imply I'm joking." He said, eyes wide and innocent, "I'm quite serious. In fact, I might have to start wearing a mask or helmet to keep the ladies from jumping me."

"_Right,_" she said, "Because you just so irresistible."

That time, the sarcasm was obvious.

"What do you want Aela?" he asked, feeling if only a little insulted. She stared at the floor thoughtfully.

"Heard you were back in town so I came to see where you've been for the seven months you've been gone." She said in a monotone voice.

"Around." He replied, Aela frowned at him making him sigh.

"Oi! Girly! Get my friend and I a drink and keep them coming." Aela barked at the serving girl.

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A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	4. I Should Really Stop Drinking Or Not?

**I Should Really Stop Drinking... Or _Not_:**

**Two Nights' Before**

Hubert climbed out of the washtub, having finished washing off the blood of the dead prisoners. It hadn't been anything unusual moving corpses, what was different was that the prisoners were not restrained, their sudden escape still a complete mystery. Pulling on his clothes he quickly left his room, hurrying down the corridor, around a corner to the end of the hall where Ulfric's room laid waiting. Hesitating, he knocked on the large double doors.

"Come in," came a soft, sweet voice from within the chamber. Hubert opened the doors, stepping in and closing them behind him. A woman clad in a rich, blue and white silk sat in front of a vanity, her back to him. He could see her beautiful, pale and flawless face in the mirror. Her lovely baby blue eyes settled on his reflection.

"Come closer, Hubert dear," She murmured in her angelic voice, "Brush my hair, won't you love?"

Smiling, Hubert walked over to her. He gingerly grasped the beautifully carved wooden brush she offered, which he then ran through her lovely waist length silvery hair, careful not to hurt her long elven ears.

"Hubert?" she asked.

"Yes, my lady?" Hubert replied.

"You care for me yes?"

"Of course my lady." he answered, most emphatic.

"Then why," she questioned, casually picking up a letter opener and inspecting it, "Is the dragonborn still around?" Hubert blinked.

"My lady-"

"I told you to get rid of him and you failed me." She hissed, "I do not tolerate failure." She whipped around, stabbing at his face before he knew what was happening.

Crying out Hubert staggered back, dropping the brush as he clutched his left eye and fell to his knees in pain.

"Oh deary, deary me," She mumbled, "Look at what you made me do." She sighed, looking at the blood dripping from behind his hand.

"Hubert? Are you all right dear?" She asked with concern in her soft sweet voice. Hubert whimpered in reply. "Oh sweetheart, don't fail me and this will never happen again. I promise."

* * *

**The Present**

Daaven groaned, rolling over in bed. His hand connected with something. He opened his eyes to see a sleeping face inches from his. Blinking a couple of times, it took a moment for him to realise who it was.

Aela. Shit.

Sitting up quickly he lifted the blanket to see that they were both, indeed, naked.

Double Shit.

He hesitated for a long moment, a deer startled into paralysis. What should he do? Run away before she woke up or stay? Both options had the possibility to end up in a lot of pain and embarrassment. This predicament, of all the many predicaments he had been in, seemed particularly sucky. Aela rolled over while he thought about the sad fact that he wouldn't even remember the reason for his soon to be castration.

He was musing to himself about whether the previous night's forgotten exploits had been any good when he heard a groan next to him. Suppressing a sigh he sat up, looking around for any nearby weapons.

He couldn't have her attacking him.

"Mornin' sunshine." He said softly, his voice gravelly. Aela's head turned towards him, squinting at his face. After a few moments her eye's widened.

"Vincie?" she croaked. He smiled at her nervously.

"The one and only…well except for mum but she doesn't count, cause she's in the Summerset Isle."

"Where are we?" Aela grunted, "And why are we in the same bed?" she slamming her head into her pillow.

"Well, I don't know, it could just be me jumping to conclusions, but I think there's a strong, possibly overwhelming possibility that we, that is to say you and I, did...well...'you know what'. " He it said as casually as he could while moving his hands to cover his nether regions under the blanket and slightly inching away.

"Did what?" she asked, confused.

"You know, the dance of love…? The tiresome tango? We made the beast with two backs?" He was slowly getting more nervous as Aela's expression got more thunderous.

"I just woke up and my head is pounding you idiot. No I _don't_ know. Elaborate." She growled, Daaven sighed.

"We had sex." He said, wincing as the words carelessly tumbled out. She shot up a surprised expression on her face.

"What?" She blurted, before wincing at what must have been a particularly handsome headache if his own discomfort was any indication.

"See..e..ex?" he drew out, slightly squeaking while he did so. Squeezing his eyes shut expecting a blow. And that kids, is how the dragonborn lost his manhood...

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see Aela burying her face in her pillow. Confused, he poked her on the shoulder.

"Aela? You ok?" he asked, slightly worried. She shook her head into the pillow making the high elf bite his lower lip in worry. "Look, Aela I'm sorry."

Aela lifted the side of her face slightly to look at him through one eye, he could have sworn he saw a tinge of pink.

"You're blushing!" he exclaimed in surprise. Her visible eye widened before she quickly hid her face in the pillow again. Daaven raised his eyebrows - apparently he, and his genetalia, had been saved by Aela's previously unseen girly side - then smirked before he grabbed her, lifting her with ease and taking the pillow from her grasp. A light pink blush was on her face making her cover it with her hands. Daaven's eyes roamed downwards smirking at what he saw.

"Breasts!" He blurted happily. Aela gasped, her hands quickly flying down to cover her chest, her blush having visibly darkened.

"Tada! I win!" he cheered as the companion grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to cover her breasts.

"Very funny Vincie," She grumbled, "I didn't realise you were such a pervert." Daaven laughed.

"Am I a pervert for wanting to see a work of art?" He asked winking, making her blush further, if possable.

"Whatever, I'm going to bathe and dress." She said standing and wrapping the blanket around her, "No peeking, or I'll poke your eyes out."

"Kay, Kay!" He responded, rolling over he buried his face in the pillows, snuggling into the bed.

* * *

Aela lowered herself into the washtub sighing contentedly. She had gotten the innkeeper to get water and make the bath for her and it was perfect. She could see why Vincie stayed here, it offered privacy and it was quite nice. She glanced at the nude high elf on the bed. He was lying on his stomach, his slender back and the top of his firm buttocks uncovered by the sheets. She quickly averted her eyes.

Her and Vincie...What now? Had it just been a one night stand, or were they 'together'?

Now that she thought about it, Aela of the Companions courting Daaven Vincie, saviour of Skyrim and possibly the world, had a pretty nice ring to it. Though she didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing, she didn't see Vincie as the type to just hit it and quit it. He was completely insufferable and had the attention span of a hamster, but something about him made her think that there were certain things he wouldn't make light of. Things he wouldn't just shrug off. And she hoped that she would be one of those things. Smiling she got out of the tub and dried off. Her body had been sore from the alcohol and the previous night's activities - the memories of which were coming back in bits and pieces - but after that bath she felt like a new person.

* * *

Daaven found his attitude towards Aela somehow always been vastly different to his attitude with Sanguine. He didn't want to go out of his way to annoy Aela. There must have been something off kilter with his logic if he found provoking a Daedric Prince less frightening - and far more fun! - than provoking a single woman. But, beyond that, he somehow felt the desire to please her. He did as he was told without question for fear of a boot in the face, as well as for the slight quirk of her lips.

That morning, however, Aela was off her game and Daaven knew it. She didn't have to take charge this time though, as Daaven for once took the initiative and bought not only breakfast, a healthy breakfast at that, but also Honningbrew Mead.

"So…what have you been up to?" he asked, wincing at the sudden onslaught of awkwardness.

"What do you mean?" Aela took a large bite of Shepherds Pie.

"Oh you know, like, what have been up to these past few months?" Good stuff, he was keeping it casual.

"The usual, contracts and drinking with Skjor and Vilkas." She answered taking a sip of Honningbrew Mead while Daaven frowned at her words.

"Vilkas? He never goes out drinking," He said eyes slowly widening with horrible suspicion, "You didn't sleep with him did you?"

He felt his stomach clench and it felt like he was going to be sick.

"No! Why would you even suggest that?" She spluttered, before huffing, another one of her - surprisingly adorable - blushes rising on her cheeks, "What's it to you anyway, Vincie?"

"N-Nothing!" He blurted, feeling oddly relieved. After their meal, Daaven dragged Aela out the Inn, to the main gate.

"Wait! Where are you taking me?" she questioned him as they left the city

"To the great tundra's of Whiterun Hold!" He answered cheerfully.

"Why?" she had to ask loudly, trying to be overheard over the sound of their running footsteps.

"Because. We're gonna go hunting." He loped off the road and into the wilderness.

Daaven snuck across the dry tundra, looking around on the ground for footprints as he manoeuvred his way around rock, under bushes and through water. He was sneaking towards an outcropping of rocks when he heard a roar, two roars in fact, one was the loud animalistic roar of a dragon and the other was the loud battle cry of a giant. When Daaven and Aela looked towards the sounds they saw a dragon flying around in the air blowing fire at a very pissed off giant, who was surrounded by three elephant corpses. Daaven sat waiting for one of them to die. In the end the victor was, inevitably, the dragon and Daaven wasted no time in running to where the dead giant lay, pulling out his bow and shooting at the dragon. The large creature flew in circles above the dragonborn flying down a couple time to blow fire at him. Daaven continued to shoot and dodge he vaguely heard Aela calling to him.

When Aela got no response she pulled her bow out, climbed onto the rocks and started to shoot at the beast as well. After a few minutes the dragon landed on the ground next to the dragonborn and started to snap at him with its massive jaws. Daaven put away his bow and pulled out a battleaxe (not his preferred weapon but efficient in dragon killing) and jumped onto its head, straddling its neck he proceeded to hack at its head. It tried to buck him off but he lodged the battleaxe between the scales to keep him from falling to the ground, then put his free hand to the middle of the dragon's head and started to electrify it. It took another few minutes to kill the dragon at which its body slumped to the ground, Daaven pulled out his battleaxe and hopped off the dragon's head. Aela climbed of the rocks she had been standing on and ran to him.

"That was Amazing Vincie!" Aela cried in excitement, while Daaven smiled at her.

"Yes, t'was quite fun." He said, chuckling at her exhilaration.

* * *

As they walked back into the city Aela continued to babble excitedly about dragons and how he was so lucky to get to fight them daily. Daaven had never seen Aela so excited, or babble like a child after too many sweet rolls (or Daaven after too many sweet rolls). But then again this was the first time she had fought a dragon, and killing one could certainly elicit such an affect. As they approached the Companions building, Aela fell silent, stopping outside the front entrance.

"Are you going to stay over?" she demanded aggressively.

"I can't Aela, I hate sleeping in a room full of people."

"Vincie," Aela said in exasperation, "You can sleep with me in my room." A slightly awkward pause, "Anyway, you seriously need to stay over here sometimes. People are starting to think you're not serious about the Companions."

"What! Of course I am!" Daaven cried in indignation, "I just have a lot on my plate right now, I mean Skyrim aint' gonna save itself you know!"

"I know Vincie, and it's not me who thinks that, it's the others," Aela sighed, "And I cant keep sticking up for you, at some point they are going to kick you out regardless of what I say, to make room for other people." Daaven grimaced.

"Fine, I'll sleep in your room." He grumbled.

"Good." Aela hummed.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	5. Daaven and The Companions

**Daaven and The Companions**:

Ulfric lay on the bed watching his lover groom herself.

"Is it really necessary to hire assassins my love?" He asked, slightly worried about her methods.

"Of course my sweet Ulfric, the dragonborn is getting in the way of our happy ending." She said, her soft voice lulling Ulfric into a sense of calm.

"Yes, I understand my love," Ulfric murmured, "Do what you must."

* * *

Daaven sat staring at the back of a silver spoon, only one thought running through his head.

He was one good looking fellow.

"Vincie what are you doing?" Aela's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Making sure I don't have anything stuck in ma' teeth." He lied. Aela sighed.

"Don't be nervous, Vincie, they aren't that mad."

"I'm not nervous." Daaven said. It was the truth. Seriously what was the worst that could happen? He would just do some jobs for them to keep them happy and then run off again.

"Oh look, so the wild stallion returns to us at last." Daaven turned to see Vilkas walk in from the back entrance.

"Wild stallion? That's a new one." He said in slight wonderment.

Aela rolled her eyes. She'd been doing that a lot lately,"It's not a complement Vincie, he means you're untameable and wander too aimlessly."

Daaven blinked

"Aint' that a good thing?" He said, seeming genuinely confused.

"No." Aela stated, receiving a frown in return. Daaven didn't like Vilkas, he didn't like Vilkas at all. He had hated him since the day he joined the companions. He could still remember it clearly. He had just been lead to Kodlak Whitemane.

"A stranger comes to our hall." Kodlak said.

Say hello to Captain Obvious...

"I would like to join the Companions." He commended himself for maintaining his good humour and cheer.

"Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you," Kodlak said, "Hmm? Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit."

"Master, You're not truly considering accepting him?" Vilkas interjected.

Daaven gave the man an incredulous glare. Where did he come off, stupid bugger?

"I am nobody's Master, Vilkas. And last time I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Apologies. But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider." Vilkas said.

Daaven seethed silently. Did everyone around here live under a rock? He had killed Alduin for crying out loud! There were songs written about him, he had saved the world!'

"Sometimes the famous come to us-"

Damn straight

"-Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame-"

No you idiot, you were right the first time.

"-It makes no difference." Kodlak said wisely, "What matters is their heart."

Bullshit.

"And their arm." Vilkas said.

"Of course. How are you in battle boy?" Kodlak questioned.

Smugly, Daaven considered telling him to ask Alduin's corpse.

"I can handle myself." He said, voice monotone.

"That may be so. This is Vilkas. He will test your arm." Kodlak said, "Vilkas, take him out to the yard and see what he can do."

Excellent. An opportunity to prove his worth and knock the stick out of Sir-Doubt's-A-Lot's ass.

"Aye." Vilkas said. Daaven followed him out to the back where the yard was.

"The old man said to have a look at you, so lets do this." Vilkas said, sounding none too happy about it.

Daaven quirked a brow. Master one moment, old man the next. Vilkas was becoming more interesting and less likeable by the second.

"Just have a few swings at me so I can see your form. Don't worry, I can take it."

Daaven sure hoped so.

Daaven swung his fist at him. Right hook, left hook, uppercut repeat. This went on for some time before Vilkas called an end.

"Not bad. Next time wont be so easy," Vilkas said. " You might just make it. But for now your still a whelp to us new blood, so you do as we tell you."

Daaven hated him just then.

"Here's my sword. Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened. And be careful, it's probably worth more then you are." Vilkas said.

Daaven had some serious doubts about that, unless the sword was worth a literal fortune. The Dragonborn, reduced to a courier. Oh the shame. He hurried up to the forge to see Eorlund.

"What brings you here?" Eorlund asked.

"Vilkas sent me with his sword." Daaven grumbled.

"I'm guessing you're the newcomer them?" Eorlund said.

Well, news certainly travelled fast.

"Does Vilkas always send newcomers on errands?" Daaven asked, barely bothering to hide the bitterness of his tone.

"Oh, don't worry to much about it. They were all whelps once. They just might not like to talk about it," Eorlund said, "And don't always just do what you're told. Nobody rules anybody in the Companions."

"Are you a Companion?"

"Not actually a Companion myself, But none of them know how to work a forge properly, and I'm honoured to serve them," Eorlund said, "My name is Eorlund Gray-mane. I work the Skyforge. Best steel in all of Skyrim. All of Tamriel."

Well that was interesting and all, but he had seen that glint in many a craftman's eye. Either some heavy advertising or in-depth explaining of his work was about to begin.

"I'll need to be going." Daaven said.

"I have a favour to ask." Eorlund said.

"What is it?" The dragonborn asked, curious.

"I've been working on a shield for Aela," Eorlund said, "My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. I'd be much obliged if you could take this to Aela for me."

"I'm happy to lend a hand." Daaven said, smiling. Now that was how a man asked for a favour.

"Well done." Eorlund said making, Daaven blink in confusion. He hurried into Jorrvaskr and asked for directions before making his way to Aela.

"I have your shield." Daaven said, eyes roaming the length of a very attractive woman.

"Ah, good. I've been waiting for this. Good to see you made it up here." She said in approval.

"You know this one? I saw him training in the yard with Vilkas." Skjor questioned.

"Ah, yes. I heard you gave him quite a thrashing." Aela said, smirking at the thought of Vilkas being humiliated by a whelp.

"Don't let Vilkas catch you saying that." Skjor chuckled.

"Do you think you could handle Vilkas in a real fight?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't care for boasting." Daaven…boasted.

"Ah, a man who lets his actions speak for him. I knew there was something I liked about you." Aela said, smiling at him.

So it wasn't his charm of devilishly good looks? Pity.

"Here, lets have Farkas show you where you'll be resting your head." Aela said.

"Farkas!" Skjor called.

"Did you call me?" Farkas asked running into view.

"Of course we did, icebrain," Aela teased, "Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."

"New blood? Oh, I remember you. Come on, follow me." Farkas said as Daaven started to follow him.

"Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they are good people," Farkas said, "They challenge us to be our best."

"Nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes," Farkas continued, "I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life."

Daaven chuckled. What was he to these people, a pet? Well...he wouldn't mind if that Aela woman led him about on a leash.

"The quarters are up here," Farkas broke him out of his thoughts-turned-fantasy, faltering only slightly at the disturbing leer on Daaven's face, "Just pick a bed and fall in it when you're tired."

And that had been the end of his initiation into the companions. Daaven liked Ria, Torvar, Farkas, Skjor and Aela. As for everyone else, they were pretentious pricks. Daaven stared down at one of the pretentious pricks in question, wondering at how even after all this time, and he and Aela's night of passion to keep him in a good mood, Vilkas still annoyed him.

"Oh Vilkas! You are to kind!" He exclaimed, waving a cheerful hand, "No, really! No wonder you have so many friends!"

Vilkas glared.

"You know Vilkas, you are so great that I'm simply not worthy of your presence, so why don't you go hang with the pretty people up in Dragonsreach, hmm?"

"Shut it whelp." Vilkas growled.

If only he had been nice from the start, they wouldn't be going in circles.

* * *

Daaven was walking back to Aela's room that night when he heard voices coming from Vilkas's room. Thinking Vilkas had 'company', he smirked and snuck up to the door to eavesdrop.

"I hate that disrespectful bastard," Came Vilkas's annoying voice. Then he heard Aela.

"Vilkas! I understand he's annoying and isn't exactly ideal-

Daaven froze, scowling. To have Aela not only fail to defend him, but insult him as well caused hot rage to spark in his belly. The only reason he had come here was at her insistence. He had plenty of better places to be. Standing he hurried and grabbed his things.

He would show her how 'ideal' he was.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	6. Pain of all forms

**Pain of all forms**

Daaven was confused. He had simply assumed that now he had saved Skyrim he could get away with anything. Seriously, didn't he bring more honour to the Companions simply by being in it? Daaven was so esteemed, even his mother was a hero. Eilreen Vincie had saved Cyrodiil a few centuries ago and Morrowind before that, he paled in comparison to his mother's escapades. Eilreen, being an elf was still in top shape but had retired after giving birth to Daaven. Daaven loved his mother dearly and missed her very much, he knew that if she were here she could dispel any mess he was in.

Daaven was walking down the steps of Jorrvaskr as he had these thoughts. What had really hurt was that Aela thought him inadequate. Daaven really hadn't expected that. He assumed she was on his side and understood that he was dancing between careers and constantly having to save people and Skyrim.

Maybe he _should_ call his mother?

He continued walking through the town and out the gates, the sound of his footsteps barely noticeable over the sounds of his thoughts. He hadn't even noticed that he had gone to far out into Whiterun Hold by the time he was pulled from his thoughts by the wet feeling of stepping into a stream. Blinking he stepped back, crouched down and put his hand in the water, swirling it absently. He jerked and rose to his feet as he felt a sudden pain in his side.

"Greetings Dragonborn, our contractor believes it's time for you to retire."

* * *

Aela was standing in her room staring at the lack of Vincie's things. She knew immediately what happened, he must have heard her talking to Vilkas because he always left a letter for her saying goodbye.

"Why me?" she grumbled, grabbing her things and hurrying after Vincie.

* * *

Vincie groaned as his eyes fluttered open, the pain in his side excruciating.

"Awake Dragonborn?" Came the familiar voice of his attacker.

"No. I'm taking refreshing nap." He grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He was unsurprised to notice he was tied to the chair.

"You have some nerve being sarcastic with me dragonborn, I could kill you here and now." The Dark elf sneered.

"You wouldn't, If you did kill me you would risk the wrath of Sithis and in extension the Dark Brotherhood." He muttered, giving up on trying to get loose and instead leaning his head against the back of the chair. The Dark elf laughed. Laughed!

"You think I care about the brotherhood?" He said in amusement, standing from his seat on the table behind Vincie and walking around to stand in front of him.

"We were simply the delivery men, the ones who are to kill you are on their way." He said, crossing his arms and leaning on one leg.

"Are you…smug about being a messenger boy? Seriously?"

The elf glare at him.

"You Altmer are all the same, all high and mighty," He said with a glare, "It pisses me off. And you know what? They asked for you alive but they didn't say anything about not torturing you!" He finished as he grabbed a dwemer pole, approaching him a sick gleam in his eyes. Daaven felt his stomach twist in fear. Shit.

* * *

Aela hurried across Whiterun Hold following the tracks of her companion, breathing heavily from how far she had run. Still no sight of Vincie. She was getting worried that she wouldn't make it to him in time to apologize and get him to come back. Aela came to a stop at a stream, crouching down to inspect, she noticed that Vincie had knelt down here. Frowning she noticed another pair of foot prints, she walked to the other side of the stream and saw Drag marks and three sets of foot prints continuing forwards. But there were none of Vincie's tracks leaving the place where he knelt, the only explanation was that he was the one being dragged away. Aela continued on at a quicker pace her stomach twisting in worry, she felt sick at the thought of her powerful friend being over powered by a group of assaulters.

* * *

Daaven bit he lip to try keep his screams from verbalising, as the dark elf beat him mercilessly with the pole. Daaven's attacker laughed at the pain he caused.

"Not so mighty now high elf?" he sneered dropping the pole and grabbing some suspicious looking tools. Daaven's eyes widened in fear and he struggled in the chair. As the elf brought a scalpel to his face, laughing was the last thing he heard before the pain consumed him.

* * *

Aela was nearing a cave as the sky slowly darkened. Hurrying to the door built onto it she yanked it open not bothering to sneak as she ran in. Sheathing her bow and pulling out her sword she hacked at them randomly while trying to hold her panic down. As she went further in, covered in blood and breathing hard, she heard the sound of screams. Vincie's screams. She ran faster down the corridor ignoring the nauseas feeling in her stomach and the tears running down her face, bursting through the door, she saw the back of someone leaning over what sounded like Vincie. The screams stopped as he stood turning to look at her.

Aela's furious face full of hatred was the last thing he saw before he got an arrow in the face.

"Vincie!" she cried running to him as the dark elf fell to the ground. What she saw made her sob, Daaven sat tied to a chair head bowed, body covered in fresh bruises and open wounds and he was covered in his own blood. Aela quickly cut him loose checking to see if he was alive, he was still breathing thankfully, but had apparently fallen unconscious. She grabbed her companion, lifting him up and carrying him to the dark elf's bed and setting him down. She pulled out the standard bandages every companion kept in their kit. Holding him up, she wrapped them around him, covering as much as she could. Quickly finishing, closing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder she looked around noticing his bag on a table behind the chair she found him on. She grabbed that and slung it over her other shoulder, hurried over and picked him up. He was quite heavy for an elf, but she ignored this as she ran out the room and through the cave out the door and into the tundra of Whiterun Hold. She panted as she ran, nearly tripping and skidding every now and then. She had to be blessed, as she hadn't caught sight of enemies once throughout her trek. She was used to hunting at night so she had no problem navigating. It took what felt like hours to get to the city gates and she hurried into the city, up the nearest stairs, around the corner and to the temple. Bursting through the doors she laid him on a stone table and called for a healer. A woman in orange robes came running up from a basement door.

"Yes can I help yo – Oh my! What happened?" The priestess cried.

"He needs attention now," Aela said. She herself wasn't entirely sure what had occurred, beyond the obvious.

"Of course!" The priestess said, stepping forward and removing the bandages. She brought her hands down and started chanting, her hands glowing as she cast different spells. After she had apparently finished, she lowered her hands. Daaven was still covered in blood, so it was hard to see, but it appeared that he had been completely healed.

"He should be fine but…" The priestess hesitated, "I wont be able to do anything about his eye."

"His eye?" Aela said, looking in confusion down at his face, and bringing her fingers towards the lid of his bloody eye-socket. She gasped as the lid sagged back into his skull, eyes widening. His left eye socket was empty.

"Oh lord." She felt like she couldn't breath. How could she not have noticed that?! More tears threatened to spill. The priestess looked her over, seeing that they both were covered in blood and recognising her as a companion.

"Job gone wrong?" The priestess inquired softly, sympathy laced her voice. Aela just continued to stare at Vincie in shock.

"Thank you." Aela whispered to the priestess, having not heard her question. She picked him up and left making her way to the Whiterun Inn, not in the mood to deal with the other companions. Aela rented a room and took him up stairs. Putting him in bed, she went to lock the door. Her bags were shoved under the bed, and she made sure the unconscious High elf was comfortable and under the covers before climbing in beside him.

She found no sleep that night.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	7. Eyepatches and Letters

**Eyepatches and Letters:**

She stood in the middle of the corpse infested entrance of the cave, a frown marring her beautiful features. She was starting to notice a trend with her minions. They always screwed up.

She continued through the cave at a leisurely pace, walking into the only room with a door. There was an abundance of blood surrounding the chair in the middle of the room. The dark elf, Corthor, lay face down on the floor in front of the chair. Walking forward she turned his corpse over with her foot, while holding her dress up, to see an arrow in his head that had snapped in two when he fell to the ground.

Sighing she walked around the chair inspecting it curiously, when something caught her eye. Bending down she picked up a small round ball from the floor, turning it over she was surprised to see it had a pupil and dark green Iris with what looked like the- an eyeball? She didn't bother to inspect further. A sadistic smile crept its way onto her face. Perhaps it was not a complete failure after all. She cast a spell on it to preserve the eye and then put it into a pouch. With one last glance at the corpse, she turned and left.

* * *

Daaven felt numb.

Was this the Void?

Opening his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he could only see through one.

What in the name of Sithis?

He lifted his hand and felt his left eye only to feel nothing. Daaven didn't usually freak out, but now he believed he was justified. He opened his mouth and screamed. The bed shifted and he was quieted by the familiar voice of Aela.

"Vincie!" He could hear panic in her usually calm voice, she reached out to him, worry etched of her face.

"My eye! My eye is gone!" He cried. Aela grabbed his arm and tried to calm him down.

"Vincie! Calm down, its ok." She tried to reassure him. Daaven stared at her, blinking his one eye. Aela tried not to shiver at how creepy it was.

"Its ok?" He questioned in confusion, thoughts running through his mind at lightning speed. Aela was with him. He had clearly escaped from that dreadful Dark elf alive. All in all, the loss of an eye wasn't that bad. Never one to dwell on the negative, he allowed relief to course through him.

"You know I totally have an excuse to ware an eye-patch now." He grinned. Aela blinked at his sudden change of mood.

"Um…ok?"

"Pity sex?" He asked hopefully, causing Aela to frown.

"Just go back to sleep." She grumbled lying back down and turning her back to him. Pouting, Daaven lay back down a thought suddenly coming to mind.

What if something gets in my eye…socket?

* * *

Daaven stared at the eye-patch presented to him, the horrible patterns really putting him off.

"Ahh…maybe a little less of a "I'm partying with my girl friends" look and a bit more of a "I'm the boss so be afraid, be very afraid" look, if you know what I mean?"

The tailor blinked at him in confusion. Aela sighed at her companion's rant.

"He means he wants a plain brown leather eye-patch not one covered in flower patterns."

"Aela! You know me so well, we should just get married and be done with it." Daaven exclaimed in a teasing manner. The huntress ignored his antics and instead helped the Tailor pick leather to make the eye-patch.

"See, you're even picking my clothes for me! What a wife like thing to do!"

That earned a glare from her.

"I'm only doing it because your fashion sense is depressing." She said.

"My outfit aint' that bad!" Daaven whined, looking down at his black assassins robe.

"I don't mean you have a bad fashion sense. I mean it's just creepy." She muttered half heartedly as she continued to look through the leather options.

Her comment only served to make Daaven grin, and make the huntress regret saying anything as she knew she had unintentionally boosted his already incredible ego. Daaven decided that Aela had everything under control and was getting bored so he decided to wander off.

As he walked past the inn and up some stone steps he came to a large tree surrounded by four benches facing away from it. Taking a seat at one of the benches, he started thinking about his current predicament. Daaven was not a dark person, despite his career path. He liked to look at things with enthusiasm, hence his lack of worry about his missing eye. Despite Aela saving him he was worried about a repeat of the night before. Only, a repeat where Aela _couldn't_ save him. So he made a serious decision.

He was sending for his mother.

* * *

Daaven sat at his desk, new eye-patch on, writing to his mother. He took a while to write, what with his lack of skill in the art, but he managed. Using a magic spell his mother created he sent it off towards the Summerset Isle.

* * *

The young advisor heard the magical tune coming from the message chest in her office. Frowning, the High elf approached the chest and opened it. Grabbing the letter inside, she looked at the envelope to see who sent it. The name she saw made her eyes widen in shock. Quickly she closed the chest and ran from her office.

The Lady would want to see this.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	8. Dear Mother

**Dear Mother:**

An elf woman sat on a stool in front of a large window, staring at the beautiful garden outside, her hands running in circles around the rim of her goblet. Thoughts of a little boy playing with a cat they once owned outside that very window brought a sad smile to her exotic features. She missed her son dearly, and had not heard from him in years. She hoped he was alright. The thought of death befalling him was too horrible to consider, so she simply assumed he was too lazy, as with most things, to write. As she took a sip of her tea the door burst open to reveal an ecstatic looking advisor.

"My Lady, Lord Daaven has written to you!" she exclaimed, practically in tears from her excitement. The elf woman nearly dropped her tea in her rush to get to her trusted advisor, grabbing the letter in the most unladylike manner. Rushing to her desk she sat down. Setting her goblet aside, she practically ripped the envelope in half in her hurry to open it. She pulled the letter out and began to read.

_Dear Mother_

_I miss you greatly, and am terribly sorry for not writing in 5 years. I have been sort of busy. I am also sorry my writing has not improved at all. _

_I have some sad news. I have not been having a good year. First, a few months ago, I was given a contract by the Night Mother to kill a bard-mugging hermit and ended up losing my horse, Ashthoniet. And now she's upset with me. _

_Sadly, a grumpy horse is the least of my worries. I got another contract a few weeks ago to kill an annoying priest who would not shut up about Talos (the god who was banned in Skyrim because of the Thalmer) and annoying people because of it. I was caught somehow and ended up in Riften Jail with a mean warden who kept insulting me. _

_A few days after I was released (you know how our family is always released), got drunk and woke up in the same bed as a friend of mine. Her name is Aela (there is nothing going on between us I swear! But you would like her mother, she's quite ballsy) _

_The next day I had to endure the painful presence of Vilkas The Jerk . Later that day I overheard Aela and Vilkas talking. She said I was not Ideal for the companions and annoying. I was upset because I thought she was the one who thought that. So I left with my things to prove my worth by killing something big and scary._

_I ended up getting captured, tortured and losing my eye. On the bright side I get to wear an eye-patch. Aela says it looks good on me. And she was the one to save me, joy! Also, I get sympathy points, and you know how I love those. But I would rather not have nasty assassins after me again. _

_So I ask that you come to Skyrim and help me. Hope you are well _

_Love_

_Your biggest fan (and only son)_

_Daaven._

Eileen read the last few lines five more times to make sure she was reading correctly. When the news sunk in she felt her whole body stiffen and heat up with a rage not even she thought herself capable of. Her hands clenched the letter tightly and she started shivering with anger. All glass in the room shattered. The advisor shivered at the look of her cold, hatred-filled eyes and the sound of her eerily calm voice.

"Prepare my things Tenarra, we leave for Skyrim immediately."

"Yes my Lady." Tenarra replied softly, slightly afraid that if she talked too loud her Mistress would snap. Only one thought ran through Eileen's head as her advisor fled the scene.

All who dared to lay a finger on her son would know her wrath.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for all you kind words. Don't hesitate to leave a review.


	9. Mother's Arrival

**Mother's Arrival**

Two Months Later…

"…And so the that's how I lost my eye." Daaven finished his greatly exaggerated story involving an Ogre army, a bandit general and an overly powerful, indestructible and incredibly handsome dragonborn to the sounds of gasps and wide-eyed looks from the children sitting on the floor before him.

"Mr Dragonborn Sir, did you really defeat the great Ogre king Gurglesnap?" a small nord boy asked, a look of awe on his pale childlike face. Aela had a strange suspicion that Vincie had set everything up specially so that the light from the window poured down upon him in a gold shaft that was far to perfect to be natural.

"Of course I did!" Daaven boasted triumphantly. A smug grin stretched across his golden skinned face, he was the picture heroism. The fact that he was far too tall to look comfortable on his stool was ignored in the face of his so-called might. A little girl stood on another stool behind him to reach the top of his head, brushing his long blond hair. Aela sighed, smiling at the scene before her. She was surprised the bard had stopped his singing to let Vincie tell his ridicules tale. Aela walked to the bar to grab something to eat as the smell of fresh sweetrolls were making her mouth water.

Daaven looked over at Aela, tilting his head to the side to look at her leather-clad ass while the kids started talking to each other about Ogre king Gurglesnap and Bandit General Pushkin. It was kind of funny the thing kids believed. First off, you didn't _get _bandit generals and Gurglesnap wasn't even an Ogre name. Not to mention, what mother would name their son _'Pushkin'_?

But damn, Aela looked fine in leather. The earthy colour suited her perfectly, bringing out the red in the hair that brushed just past her shoulders, strands often falling tantalisingly around a long pale neck. She was beautiful, though he would totally loose face paint…

The image of Aela dressed in nothing _but_ the face paint - and perhaps those boots of hers - caused something primal inside him to sit up and howl. Actually, the paint was kind of sexy. It could stay. Daaven bit his lower lip as his thoughts started to wander. He jumped when Aela's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Vincie?"

"Yes?" he asked wide-eyed, shifting on his uncomfortable stool. Aela held out a plate of sweetrolls, a smile on her face.

"Want one?"

Daaven grinned, taking one. Aela had been unbelievably nice to him since the incident with his eye, sticking up for him against the Companions and just treating him lovely.

"Thanks Aela."

* * *

Daaven was standing in Belethor's General Goods, in a room surrounded by crates, chests and shelves with books. The smell of dust and old pages was overwhelming, the windows in this room barred shut to keep out thieves and the locked door meaning no fresh air.

He looked around the dark, cramped storage room and his eyes fell upon the most beautiful chest he had ever seen. Large, intricately carved with small jewels encrusted into the dark wood, the urge to open that chest was like the great pull of some invisible force.

He didn't know if it was a hallucination or not but he was sure he saw a holy light shining down upon it - perhaps caused by the numerous dust particles in the air and the grease on the window

Sneaking to it he, started to pick the master lock. He made short work of it, and lifting it up he coughed as dust unsettled right in front of his face. Looking inside he saw… a ball of yarn, a torch and a…spade? How did that even fit in there? Sighing dejectedly he closed the chest, stood and left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Tenarra was walking next to her mistress, carrying some of her things. They had just arrived in Whiterun and were making their way to the inn. Guards walked past them saying things like; "I used to be an adventurer like you, till I took an arrow to the knee."

And "What? Someone stole your sweetroll?"

Ignoring their foolish antics - what else was there to do for a man whose job it was to walk around all day than to mess with the newcomers and strangers in their city? - they walked through the crowded market, glad that it was a clear day. They entered the inn, the smell of fresh bread and meat assaulting their noses. Ignoring the sound of a bard singing _The Dragonborn Comes_, Lady Eileen led her to the bar where her mistress inquired about a room.

"Mother!" came a sudden and excited voice from the entrance of the inn. Turning they looked at the tall one-eyed elf practically running to them. Daaven jumped at his mother, nearly knocking her over as he went to pull her into a crushing embrace.

"Daavie?" His mother asked in surprise.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for your kind words. Pls review


	10. Mother Knows Best

**Mother Knows Best**

Mother knows best

Daaven knew that as he sat "_**listening"**_ to his mother harping on about something to do with politics. He wasn't really sure as he was finding the fly sitting upon the apple on his plate incredibly interesting. Seriously. The way its antenna flickered back and forth was sooo-

"Daaven are you paying attention?" his mothers voice cut through his thoughts. His head snapped up, green eyes wide, cheeks and nose dusted with a light pink hue of embarrassment.

"Mother, I-

"You do know you're being targeted, don't you?" she asked calmly, dusting nonexistent dust from her lap. Daaven looked truly guilty, eyes downcast, hands clasped tightly in his lap and nibbling on his lower lip.

"Daaven, you are my son and I love you, but you _**will**_ die if you don't pay attention." Eileen said softly, laying a hand on his knee.

"I know mother, but…I'm a thief and a killer, not a strategist." He murmured, covering her hand with his and bringing it to his lips to kiss it gently in apology. Eileen sighed and shook her head.

* * *

Aela stared into the chamber pot a grim look on her face. **'That Time Of The Month'** had not come in two months and she was seriously worried. Aela was a warrior but she wasn't stupid. She knew what it meant if a woman skipped her period, she also knew she hadn't slept with anyone other then Daaven in the last three…years.

"Shit" she cussed, turning she stormed out the dark chamber.

* * *

"…So we-

"Daaven!" Aela barked as the door burst open to reveal a panicked and pissed off Aela. Storming over she caught sight of his unfazed mother. Blinking, her eyes widened.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Aela said quickly, holding her hands up in a placating manner.

"Don't worry dear, I'm used to it." Eileen said smiling softly at her, "you know, before I had Daaven I used to be an adventurer too, young and lively." She said dreamily.

"Oh, ok that's…nice." Aela muttered, "Um, never mind I'll…tell you later."

"Okie dokie!" Daaven exclaimed cheerfully, as his companion turned and left.

"Right. What were you saying mum?"

* * *

Aela sat upstairs in Daaven and her hired room in front of one of the windows; her head leant against the glass. Moonlight poured through the windows into the dark room, her ears pricked at the sound of door quietly opening and closing.

"Your quiet so I'm guessing your not Daaven." She said murmured, a blank expression on her face.

"He can be silent when he wants to." Aela turned to look at the source of the familiar voice.

"May I?" Eileen asked gesturing at the bed.

"Sure." Aela said turning back to look out the window, listening to the sound of rustling cloth and the creek of the bed lowering slightly.

"I heard about what you did." Eileen murmured softly, "thank you, for saving my son." Aela turned her head to look at the elf woman. She looked oddly tired and worn in the shadows, her light blonde hair shone in the moonlight and her bright green eyes glowed slightly.

"It was my fault." Aela whispered, her eyes sparkled with suppressed tears, "Its my fault he ran off and got captured." Eileen smiled comfortingly at her.

"No child it was not your fault." Eileen said, standing she walked to Aela and crouched before her, taking Aela's hand in hers comfortingly, "You did not send those assassins." Aela slid from the chair and started to cry the overwhelming guilt away while Eileen took the Human into her arms and held the young woman as she sobbed into her shoulder.

It was later that night when Eileen had left and Daaven had come to bed that Aela decided to tell him her discovery. When he entered he lit the torches in the room and went to the wardrobe to change.

"Vincie." Aela's voice startled Daaven making him jump in surprise. He turned to look at her with wide eyes.

"Aela…" He said slowly, "What's up?" Aela looked at him grimly.

"I'm pregnant."


End file.
